


white tea & musk

by fanfictiongreenirises



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, no editing we typo like mne, scented candles, these idiots don't communicate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises
Summary: "It was sweet, something simple that Tony himself would never have thought of. Something that meant that Steve thought of him when Tony wasn’t there, that he wanted Tony to think of Steve when he wasn’t there. Something that meant that Tony might just mean as much to Steve as Steve meant to him."A scented candle almost causes Steve and Tony to break up.





	white tea & musk

**Author's Note:**

> y'know, this is probably the first time the fic length has actually stayed within what i set instead of being like an additional 10k over expectations.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

THIS FANFICTION IS HOSTED ON **ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN**, WHERE YOU CAN READ IT FOR **FREE**. IF YOU’RE READING THIS ON A DIFFERENT WEBSITE, IT WAS POSTED THERE **WITHOUT** THE AUTHOR’S CONSENT.

The smell of coffee was the first thing he noticed about the room, accompanied by something else that was sweet and tangy. Tony sniffed as he walked out of the bedroom. Steve had stayed the night, as he usually did now, eight months into their relationship.

Stretching as he entered the kitchen, he saw the coffee ready in his mug, with a candle burning beside it.

Tony smiled. 

The candle read ‘Refreshing Blend’.

* * *

When Steve and Tony had first started dating, a few things had changed drastically in Tony’s life. He’d slowly but surely stopped the late-night binges – or at least, they’d become less common, because now he knew there was someone waiting for him in bed. He now had an actual breakfast at a reasonable breakfast time, something that had actual fruit in it more often than not. His room was now perpetually messy, because it turned out that Steve was prone to throwing his clothes all over the place, while Tony had spent his whole life looking after his clothes to the point where he could do it drunk – and had.

The strangest change, however, was that they now had this _thing_ with scented candles. Not a kinky thing, but more of a domestic communication system. Take, for example, the previous month.

It had been a Sunday, and a warm one at that. Tony had gotten home from an overnight business trip to find a single candle burning on the side table by the door. He’d taken off his coat and gotten a good whiff of it, reading the label: Apple Pie. 

“Steve?” he’d called, wondering whether he should be concerned about leaving a burning candle unattended like that. “JARVIS, make sure the tower doesn’t burn down,” he’d added as he’d wandered into the penthouse.

“In the kitchen,” Steve had called.

Tony had stopped at the doorway, momentarily surprised at the sight that had greeted him. Steve was there in front of the oven, wearing that Ironette apron that Sam had given him as a joke. And there was—

“Are you baking pie?” Tony had asked, placing his briefcase on the counter and coming to lean by Steve, peering into the oven as well.

Steve had turned and gave him a massive grin, leaning forward and kissing him in a way that would always make Tony’s knees go weak. “Yup,” he said. 

“I didn’t know you baked,” Tony said dazedly.

Steve had shrugged. “Decided to learn.”

And that had been the start of their messages in the form of candles. Tony had no idea where Steve kept all his candles, because he never saw them except when they were out and lit. He himself kept them in a cupboard in the workshop, buying ones that sounded like things he could pull off. Apple Cider, Back In the Saddle, Christmas Tree, Chocolate Kisses, Butt Naked, Beach Walk, Birthday Cake, Clean Linen, Vanilla Lace, Temptation, Very Sexy. For their six-month anniversary, Tony had lit ‘Island Paradise’ and whisked Steve away for a week.

One time he’d lit ‘Clean Linen’ the morning after they’d had ‘Endless Love’, and Steve had blown it out and grabbed something labelled ‘Intimate’.

It was sweet, something simple that Tony himself would never have thought of. Something that meant that Steve thought of him when Tony wasn’t there, that he wanted Tony to think of _Steve_ when he wasn’t there. Something that meant that Tony might just mean as much to Steve as Steve meant to him.

* * *

Tony was gone when Steve woke up, which was odd – usually he was the one who smiled down at the sleeping figure beside him before he left the warm comfort of the sheets – but after a glance at the clock, Steve realised why. 

It was eleven in the morning.

He’d gotten back from a week-long SHIELD training trip the night before, to ‘Rose Petals’ (accompanied by a trail leading to what was rapidly transforming from Tony’s room to both of theirs), ‘Temptation’ halfway through, and finally ending with ‘Satin Sheets’ and ‘Russian Leather’.

Steve hadn’t really thought much of it when he’d left ‘Apple Pie’ burning while he’d baked. He’d thought it was cute; Bruce had given him a set of scented candles for his birthday, and he hadn’t had the chance to use any.

He hadn’t thought that it would snowball to Tony at one point transforming the entire roof into a beach because he had found a ‘Sex on the Beach’ candle that he wanted to test out before their trip to the actual beach the next weekend. Steve could still recall vividly the look on Clint’s face when JARVIS had announced the following morning that the beach roof would be open to the rest of the Tower’s inhabitants for a week before being dismantled.

Steve got out of bed and stretched, wincing at the tugging of sore muscles. All his aches would be gone within the next few hours, but that still left him stiff and in need of enough food to satisfy his metabolism.

There was no one in the kitchen when Steve left the bathroom – not that he expected there to be. Pepper and Happy would only be there unannounced if Tony had anywhere particularly important to be; the rest of the team, despite their questionable boundaries regarding privacy, rarely strayed beyond the common floor unless invited.

Steve, still half asleep from the serum sapping all his energy to heal him, walked to the fridge with his eyes mostly shut. Auto pilot and muscle memory were what got the tub of yoghurt out and found the container of granola in the cupboard. 

He’d finished half the bowl by the time he’d even sat down on the barstool, which, conveniently, was when he noticed it.

There was a candle on the benchtop, right on the corner. It wasn’t lit, just sitting there with the top still on. Steve frowned a little, pausing with the spoon in his mouth to reach out and bring it closer to sniff at – he preferred trying to guess what the scent was before reading it.

It was… clean? Stiff? Sort of like walking into a new building, maybe. All in all, Steve was largely unimpressed.

Then he glanced down at the label and his heart stopped for a moment.

‘Freshly Signed Divorce Papers’.

He and Tony weren’t married, was the first thing he thought somewhat hysterically. They’d been together for just over a year. Was this a passive way for Tony to hint that he was going to discuss breaking up, and wanted Steve prepared? Maybe he’d bought it in case he ever needed to call it quits. Maybe he wanted Steve to know he wasn’t one for marriage.

Hell, maybe he’d been married before, and had just gotten out of it. Maybe Tony’s life was eerily similar to _Sweet Home Alabama_. 

Steve’s appetite had completely abandoned him; the sight of the remaining food in his bowl made his stomach turn. He covered it with cling wrap and placed it in the fridge, unable to handle wasting food.

* * *

What Tony didn’t know was that Steve also had an ever-increasing stash of candles that he’d bought impulsively, both online and when he was on his morning run. (Driving back from SHIELD, online when he was supposed to be looking into some shady real estate agent, on the way back from a mission.) Most of them were food related, because there were _so many_ food scented candles that Steve couldn’t possibly not buy at least a few. Then there were flower ones, that Steve bought and then matched with a bouquet. He’d bought ‘Monkey Breath’ and kept it lit for the whole afternoon after they’d visited the zoo together, and Tony had refused to kiss him the entire time.

Steve had left out ‘Memories of Home’ when he had to leave for a mission while Tony was still on a business trip, instructing JARVIS to make sure Tony saw it and the lighter he’d placed next to it, unsure of when Tony would be back and unwilling to leave the candle burning while there was no one there to appreciate it.

* * *

The penthouse was dark when Tony got home late that night – much later than he’d intended. A meeting with the R&D department had run overtime when one of the newest recruits had called him over to where her team were working. Tony could never resist seeing new talent at work. 

It was eleven thirty-one, according to the clock. It ticked softly. Steve had bought that clock – everything on Tony’s floor had been digital before Steve had begun slowly moving in. Tony didn’t want to call out to Steve in case he was asleep (because God knew he needed it), so he toed off his shoes and padded into the kitchen on socked feet.

There was a tablelamp on in the living room, the only light source. Tony placed his briefcase on the couch and took off his coat, draping it over the backrest. He was just about to ask JARVIS where Steve was when he spotted the candle on the benchtop.

Tony perked up. A candle left out meant that Steve was here somewhere, evidently feeling up to doing something like this. He walked over to grab it and—

‘Freshly Signed Divorce Papers’.

It was a wonder that he didn’t drop it then and there. Tony shakily placed it back onto the counter and stared at it, wondering how a single candle – _not even lit_ – could destroy his life quite so suddenly.

He tried to think back, to think of what he might’ve done that warranted this. It was obvious what it meant. Steve wanted to break up with him, and was leaving the candle out so Tony could be mentally prepared, so Steve wouldn’t just bombard him with his ‘I can’t do this anymore’.

Steve was probably in their bedroom. Tony stared at the door. He should go in, he knew, but his legs couldn’t move. He was numb from head to toe, breath coming in shallow. It’d all been so good just that morning, before he’d left Steve bathed in soft sunlight asleep in their bed.

Then he heard what sounded like a cough coming from the direction of the bedrooms, and without a single thought of what he was doing, grabbed the briefcase and coat, shoes from the doorway, and fled.

* * *

There at the far, far back of Tony’s collection, was ‘Baby Powder’. Tony didn’t know if he’d ever light it, or even leave out for Steve to see, but something in him had added it to his cart when he was on a shopping binge.

* * *

Steve hadn’t exactly told anyone that they had a candle thing. He suspected that Tony hadn’t either, because others had often walked by the candles without giving them a second glance. It had been nice, at the time. A semblance of privacy into what was practically love notes to each other.

But now it just made it harder for him to go to Sam or Natasha, because he couldn’t exactly explain the situation to them without going back a year or so. What could he say? “I think the boyfriend I’ve been going steady with for over a year now might be breaking up with me because he left out a candle on the kitchen counter”?

He knew exactly what they’d say, because if either of them came to him with that story, he’d tell them the exact same thing.

It was just all the more difficult when it was your own life, Steve thought as he pounded into the punching bag a few more times.

“Hey, man,” Sam said from behind him somewhere. “You want to spar, maybe? I promise I’ll go easy on you this time.”

Sparring led to the promise of drinks which led to Steve lingering in Sam’s apartment for much longer than he probably should’ve, seeing as he hadn’t talked to Tony in almost twelve hours. He didn’t want Tony to worry, but that was a distant concern to the rest of the emotions currently taking their toll on him.

Sam handed him a massive mug of hot chocolate and brought out a packet of cookies. “My sister brought them over,” he told Steve. “I’m hiding them from Bruce and Clint, so if you tell anyone I have my mother’s baked goods sitting in the cupboard, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

Steve, for his promise of the utmost secrecy, was awarded a plate of cookies.

It probably said more to Sam about the situation that Steve barely touched them than anything Steve could’ve told him.

“I think Tony’s going to break up with me,” Steve said, voice short. The words came out with no more difficulty than saying something like ‘I had a sandwich for lunch’. They didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like something that was actually happening to him; this was surely someone else’s life that he was role-playing. What was that saying about repeating words enough times, so they lost all meaning?

Sam sat down opposite him. “Okay,” he said in a measured tone. “What makes you think that?”

Steve sighed. Therapist Sam had come out to play, and not that he wasn’t grateful – it was just that he didn’t feel in the mood for a ‘is that really the best reaction for this situation’ kind of talk. “It’s sort of a long story.”

Sam hummed. “I got nowhere to be,” he said. “And you probably don’t, either. JARVIS can tell Tony we’re having a movie marathon or something so he doesn’t worry.”

_He’s breaking up with me; why would he worry?_

But that wasn’t true. Regardless of whether they were together or not, Tony was still one of his closest friends and would always be. Even if that ended up being one sided after this thing went down.

* * *

At the far, far back of Steve’s stash sat ‘Love Me, Love Me Not’ for their first Valentine’s Day together (since the candle thing had begun); ‘Mistletoe’, ‘Snowed In’, and ‘Season’s Blessings’ for their second Christmas.

* * *

Tony wasn’t proud of the week that followed his finding the candle.

If he were to transform it into facts and figures, it would stand as this: 

  * Five mini arguments with Steve over topics he barely even recalled that all ended with one or both of them looking away.
  * Nine meals in total, all when people wanted to go to some restaurant with him for one reason or another.
  * Twelve stare-offs with Steve, all of which were in the presence of others because…
  * Thirty-seven extra hours at the office logged, not counting the time spent in his personal workshop.
  * Uncountable amount of concerned looks he’d received from Pepper and Happy.
  * One hundred and sixty-eight hours of avoiding Steve.

Tony didn’t know how to fix this. To be frank, if anyone had suggested that Steve take their special candle thing and use it to do something like _this_, he would’ve laughed in their face, because Steve was a lot of things and he had his flaws, but he wasn’t _cruel_. 

This? Taunting Tony with a candle and then using it to indicate ending their relationship? This was cruel. And yet, Tony couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone or to even confront Steve about it, because then it’d actually be over and he’d have to live with the fact that that little voice inside his head, the one that had told him repeatedly that this wasn’t going to last, that one day Steve would wake up and realise what a mistake he’d made with Tony, had been right all along.

It didn’t matter that Steve had spent the last year doing his best to convince Tony that he loved him, because he would always look back on their time together and know how it’d ended.

* * *

Tony’s favourite candle was ‘Stargazer Lily’, because Steve had brought it to his workshop one night and taken him out to an empty field in the middle of nowhere to stargaze. They’d strapped a telescope to the back of his bike, and Tony had clung on to Steve the whole way there, resting his head on his back.

* * *

Steve snapped in the middle of a battle, over the comms, which was probably something the rest of the team would use against him every time he told someone off for chatter. 

He hadn’t planned on bringing his and Tony’s relationship onto the field, but after stifling all the emotions from the past week, listening to the object of his frustrated fears joke over the comms so easily with the rest of the team set something angry and bitter off in him. Had he been sleeping better, maybe, or eating regularly, perhaps it would’ve gone down differently, but as luck would have it, the whole team _and_ a mostly handcuffed Wrecking Crew had to be witness. 

“Chatter!” Steve barked for the fifth time since they’d been called out, having to put an effort into hitting Thunderball with force that would knock him out rather than kill or permanently injure him.

And maybe Tony snapped a little, too. “Geez, Captain Uptight. We’re almost done tonight, anyway.” 

Steve snorted, none of the usual humour in the involuntary action. “So you can prattle on for the entire four hours it’s taken us to bring these idiots down—” (an outraged “hey!” sounded, that they all ignored), “—but suddenly when it’s about us, you can’t speak for yourself?” The_ you have to let a candle do it for you? _went unsaid, but Steve knew Tony heard it.

Tony sucked in a breath, and Steve shoved down that part of him that felt bad about hurting Tony. Natasha, who was securing Thunderball, looked up at him sharply, and he glared at the accusation written there.

“I’m not the one who can’t speak for himself, Cap,” Tony said quietly. “After how you handled things, I can’t believe you’d say that. But I guess you have a right to it. You started it with the fucking pie or whatever, and now you’re the one to end it, right? Is that how you see it now? Or maybe it's a romantic gesture you pull out for all your lovers.”

“I wasn’t the one who left it out on the _kitchen bench_ and then didn’t come home for three nights!”

“What’re you _talking_ about, Steve? _You_ ended it, not me.”

“So now you’re blaming _me_ for a decision you took out of my hands? You didn’t even let me have a say! Hell, I _still_ don’t know where we stand! What do you want from me, a candle delivered to your office telling you I’ve moved out?” 

“That’s the_ last_ thing I want, but _you_ didn’t ask to hear what I wanted then, so I can’t think you will now.”

At some point, Iron Man had landed in front of Steve, but they were both still wearing their masks. Steve wished they could do this somewhere, _anywhere_, else, but he didn’t want to give Tony the chance to walk off. He didn’t know when he would next see Tony if he lost sight of him now, when they were still on uneven ground (ground that was becoming less and less stable with every word that spewed out of each of their mouths). This was the most he’d seen or heard of Tony since this whole thing had started, and like it or not, it would end here, on the streets, in the middle of a mission.

“Uh, guys? Maybe shove a cork in it till we’re back at the Tower—” Clint tried to say, but broke off when twin glares spun to his direction. “Okay, okay, butting out now…”

There was a crackling sound from Iron Man – Tony had probably sighed or something – and then a _whoosh_ as the faceplate lifted. Tony’s face was grim underneath, tight lines around his eyes and mouth. These last few days hadn’t been easy on him, either.

“Steve, look,” Tony began. “I know things haven’t always been the best between us, and that we aren’t the perfect couple or anything, and that we’re both messes and that isn’t always the best thing for a relationship. God knows I know that, and all the million other issues with this thing between us. But…” he hesitated, before his eyes became more resolved, “I won’t let us go without a fight. Or at least an explanation. You owe me that much, at least.”

Steve was…_incredibly confused_. “Hold—hold on,” he said, raising a palm as his mind tried frantically to piece together the events he’d experienced with what Tony had just said. “You don’t _want_ to break up?”

“Of _course_ I don’t want to break up!” Tony practically shouted, disbelief written all over him. “I love you!”

Steve almost reeled back with that, because, yes, they’d said it before, but it was different hearing it after days of thinking that your boyfriend was going to break up with you at any minute. “So why did you leave out the candle?”

“_You_ left out the candle!” Tony was still speaking in that frustrated tone of his, the one that told Steve that Tony thought he was being obtuse on purpose. 

“Tony…” he said slowly. “I never left it out. I’ve never even seen it before. I thought _you_ left it there.”

Tony stared at him. And kept staring. Then, much to the surprise of Steve and probably everyone in the general vicinity, who were all watching this unfold with rapt attention, he began laughing. Softly, at first, but then with increasing hysteria. He bent over, clutching his stomach a little, wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes.

Steve was the one to stare now. “Um,” he said, unsure of how to deal with this now. For the first time, he glanced around a little. Everyone avoided his eyes, looking away instantly when his gaze fell upon them, and he flushed at how he’d just dumped a penthouse worth of dirty laundry out in public.

“Sorry,” Tony wheezed out, running a hand over his face. “Just…it’s a relief, is all. God, we’re so dumb.”

Steve could relate. His legs felt like jelly, relief pouring over him like an endless waterfall of coolness. He’d never felt so tired in his life. All he wanted to do was to run over to Tony and hug him, and then hold him and sleep. Honestly, he just really wanted to lie down next to Tony and rest for a bit. The last few nights had been nightmare after nightmare after endless hours of putting off going to bed, knowing that Tony wouldn’t be beside him.

“C’mon, let's head back to the Tower,” he said with a final look around at the scene around them. Thor gave him a nod when they made eye contact, letting Steve know that they weren’t needed here, and Steve gave him the faintest shadow of a smile in return. “Can I filch a ride?”

Tony gave him the tiniest of smiles and tilted his head sideways.

* * *

Tony had left out ‘The Hamptons’ the night before they were heading to his house there. He’d lit ‘Beach Walk’ and ‘Sea Breeze’ and ‘Sandcastle’ and ‘Seashell’ and ‘Seashore’ and ‘Sun and Sand’, and, most importantly, ‘Sex on the Beach’. (He hadn’t realised how many beach related candles there were prior to this outing.) He’d had everything prepared, down to absolutely minuscule details like bathroom breaks and what they were going to have for dessert, but then a last-minute thunderstorm had come crashing in and Tony had spent probably an entire hour cursing Thor.

But Steve had only laughed it off, kissing Tony in that way of his that would always make Tony’s insides melt and crumble with every breath that they took, sharing the same air. And in that moment, all of Tony’s doubts had faded away, and the only thing he could think of were the clear blue eyes looking into his.

* * *

Tony’s heart was beating far too fast when he landed, taking extra care to make sure Steve was comfortable. The sheer giddiness that was coursing through him now filled him with a shakiness that affected all of his limbs, and he knew that he would ramble if he opened his mouth.

The candle was still there on the benchtop when they walked inside. Tony hadn’t even looked at their kitchen since then, having used the one on the common floor when he needed to. Hell, he’d only been back here for appearance’s sake; he had all the essentials in the workshop.

“So, if neither of us put it there…” Steve began, still eyeing it with trepidation.

“If I may, sirs,” JARVIS spoke up. “It would appear that Dr Banner left it there.”

“Wha—_Bruce_?” Tony spluttered. “_Bruce almost broke us up?”_

He almost dialled Bruce right then and there, demanding (in a friendly way, of course) an explanation for the candle that had haunted him for days and nights on end. But Steve stopped him, with a hand on his wrist.

It was the first time they’d touched since this had begun. Tony had _missed_ Steve, with an ache that was bone deep and unable to be filled with anything or anyone else.

“Tony,” Steve said, “let’s talk to Bruce later, okay? Right now I just want you.”

From anyone else, it might’ve sounded like a come on. It might’ve read as Steve wanting to kiss Tony and have sex with Tony and leave all the discussions till later. But if Tony had learnt one thing from this past year or so, it was that for Steve, the talking and discussing of feelings was always much preferred to any physical intimacy when they were fighting. (But that wasn’t to say that Steve didn’t do make-up sex well.)

“Couch?” Tony said, turning his hand over so it was clasped in Steve’s still gloved one and leading him there.

Steve cleared his throat once they'd sat down. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at Tony with big, pleading eyes. “I jumped to conclusions – we both did, I know, but you’ve already said a really nice speech, and now it’s my turn, so shush – so anyway, I jumped to conclusions and I ignored the problem and ran from confronting you about the candle when I should’ve the moment I saw it. I should’ve called you or marched to SI and asked you what you meant by it, but instead I just left it there hoping – or, dreading, really – that you’d bring it up. And you never did, because you were thinking the same thing, too. And then I let it get in the way of the team and on the field, too, and we’re lucky it was the damn _Wrecking Crew_ and not Galactus or something, because neither of us had our heads in the game, and—”

“Hold on,” Tony interrupted, stifling a smile. “Are you _lecturing_ us both right now? What happened to the apology or whatever it was that you began with?”

Steve frowned, in that light-hearted way of his. “The apology was over after I said ‘I’m sorry’, Stark,” he told Tony. “The rest is an explanation.”

Tony huffed a breath. “Go on.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Well, that about covers it, really. I really am sorry for not going after you, though. For letting you feel just as shit as I’ve been feeling this last week.”

“So am I. I should never have even entertained the idea that you’d do something like that. You’re a lot of things, Steve, but you’re not cruel, to keep it dangling like that.”

Steve nodded, leaning forward to hold both of Tony’s hands with his own. “I love you,” he said with a sincerity that knocked the breath out of Tony. “I don’t want this to end, but if it ever does, if we ever feel like we aren’t working out, you can be sure that I won’t go down without a fight, because I love you and I’m _in_ love with you.”

Tony smiled, eyes suddenly having developed a bright sheen. “That goes for me, too, y’know. I know I’m not the best at open communication, and I tend to burrow away instead of facing you whenever I think there’s something wrong, but I wouldn’t ever break up with you like this, and I’d never even consider breaking up before having done absolutely everything in my power to fix whatever went wrong.”

Steve kissed him, their first kiss since that day, and it wasn’t bright or loud or overwhelming. Instead, as Tony’s eyes fluttered shut against Steve’s cheek, all Steve could feel was contentment and safety, of having come out of another near-disaster all the more stronger.

* * *

It was probably too soon, but Steve had the first inklings of a proposal at the back of his head. It would be night-time, because otherwise the candles wouldn’t be as effective. There would be flowers throughout the Tower, paired with the candles. He’d leave ‘Moonlight Path’ out, first, so Tony would know to follow the tea candles up to the roof. There would be ‘Picnic In the Shade’, accompanied by ‘Dinner Party’. 

He’d have a few others as well, like that ‘Butterfly Kisses’ one that Tony was so fond of. ‘Voodoo Love’ and ‘Warm Embrace’ as well, perhaps. When he finally proposed, there would be ‘White Diamond’ and ‘Wedding Cake’ and ‘Eternal Love’ and a curious thing he’d found one time that had sparked this whole plan, called ‘Marry Me’. He’d place the ring on the candle, leaving it up to Tony to light it if he so wished after (if) he removed the ring.

**Author's Note:**

> All the candles used in this fic are real, apparently - i got them off various websites. The inspiration behind the fic itself was a picture of the real 'freshly signed divorce papers' that i saw on tumblr at some point.
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Let me know if you liked it and come talk to me on [tumblr](http://fanfictiongreenirises.tumblr.com) =D


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